


To search perchance to see

by anamia



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Divination, Dumbledore's Army, F/F, Hogwarts Seventh Year, Implied Future Character Death, Implied Underage, Making Out, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-30
Updated: 2013-03-30
Packaged: 2017-12-06 06:59:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/732750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anamia/pseuds/anamia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Every seer is cursed with the knowledge of their own death, just as they are gifted with the inability to understand it until too late."</p>
<p>On love, sisterhood, and the elastic limits of fate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To search perchance to see

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be for femslash February but, given that it is now nearly the end of March, that clearly will not be happening. This also ended up being way longer than expected. It was meant to be a short, decently fluffy ficlet and then it turned into this. I'd apologize, but I'm not entirely sure that I'm sorry.
> 
> This story is dedicated to [Elo](helloelloh.tumblr.com) who served as beta and cheerleader and consultant and pretty much everything else throughout the process.

"What do you see?"

Parvati's voice is soft, almost dreamlike. She sits cross-legged on her bed, hands running through Padma's hair. Padma is lying down, head on Parvati's lap, eyes closed.

"Nothing."

Parvati's hands pause in their ministrations.

"Why not?"

Padma shrugs, movement made awkward by the presence of her sister's knees. Parvati purses her lips slightly.

"Let me try."

Padma's eyes open and she looks up, meeting brown eyes identical to her own.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

Padma sits up slowly, shaking her head to get all her hair out of the way. It ripples slightly, brushing against Parvati's chest and torso. The two switch places.

Padma works the hair tie out of her sister's hair and carefully unbraids it, spreading the strands fanlike across her lap. The smell of Parvati's shampoo comes wafting up and Padma smiles almost unconsciously. Parvati's eyes drift closed.

"What do you see?"

The words are ritual, crafted before the girls understood that not everyone could see as much as they could. It was a game, once, to see who could spot the strangest possible future or answer a question fastest. Parvati usually won those games; Padma didn't begrudge her the success.

"I see death."

These days the possible futures have nothing to do with pretty clothes and handsome boys. Neither twin has seen anything but war or tragedy in months, for all that Padma periodically asks for a happy ending. Happy endings, it seems, are in short supply, and a Seer's mentality will always affect what visions are shown. Possible futures flit in and out of existence with every choice made, including the one to seek them out. Only rarely will one solidify into a definite point, a Prophecy. Padma has yet to utter one of those. Secretly, she hopes she never will.

"Whose death?"

"Mine."

Padma can't repress the shiver that passes through her at that. Every seer is cursed with the knowledge of their own death, just as they are gifted with the inability to understand it until too late. Parvati has been seeing her own since she was five years old. Padma's first brush with fate didn't come until seven; Parvati always has been the stronger seer.

Her eyes flutter partway open, banishing the vision, then close again. Padma continues to massage her scalp, trying to coax the better futures into showing themselves. Parvati shifts slightly, moving to a more comfortable position on the bed, then stills. Padma gives her a few seconds, then repeats the question.

"What do you see?"

The reply doesn't come right away. Padma brushes a strand of hair away from Parvati's neck and tries not to get impatient.

"I see war."

Parvati's voice is flat, hard, filled with the bitterness that comes with asking for something too many times and never getting it. She sits up, pulling her hair from Padma's fingers with a slight jerk. When she turns around her face is a mask of hard-won neutrality. She starts rebraiding her hair, fingers quick and sure. Padma hands over the hair tie, a flash of bright red among the pure black locks.

"We're going to be late for dinner."

Padma nods mutely, slipping off the bed and feeling for her shoes. She leaves her hair down, tucking it behind her ears. It won't stay there for long, but these days she needs the warmth. She envies Parvati the ability to hold her head high and keep her neck bare. Parvati picks up her tie and ties it deftly, tightening the red and gold fabric around her neck. Padma remembers possible futures filled with blood and looks away.

*

Ginny looks exhausted as she explains for the third time in ten minutes how to cast a shield charm. They're all tired, but the dark bags contrast harshly with Ginny's fair skin. She's not wearing any makeup.

Padma stands a little ways away, tucked into the shadows cast by one of the bookshelves. Her eyes follow Ginny's hands as she once again goes through the proper wand motion, admiring the strong certitude of her movements. Whether Ginny's self confidence is natural or feigned is for Ginny alone to know, but it convinces more than just the first years who flock towards her.

Across the room Neville and Parvati talk in low voices, neither looking happy. Parvati has her hair pinned up out of the way and her hands move sharply as she emphasizes whatever point she's making. Neville stands with his arms crossed over his chest, immovable and impassive. He shakes his head once, twice. Parvati's gestures become slightly frantic.

"He doesn't know any better."

Padma starts slightly, not having seen Luna approach. The blonde's watery grey eyes are fixed on the arguing pair, though neither tone nor expression gave away her thoughts. Six years of passing acquaintance have done nothing to teach Padma how to read the other. That honor goes to Neville and Ginny alone; even Parvati admits to being a bit flummoxed by her unblinking protuberant eyes and a veritable stream of non-sequiturs.

This time, though, Padma knows exactly what she's talking about.

"It's no excuse. We've told him before."

Across the room Parvati takes half a step forward, invading Neville's personal space to make her point. He doesn't flinch. Gone is the shy boy of eleven, replaced by a hardened leader who refuses to be intimidated.

"He's been taught that all magic can be dominated. Can you blame him for believing his teachers?"

"Yes."

It's not a very nice answer, but Neville's not the only one who's been changed by hardship. Across the room Parvati looks properly angry. Neville's expression hasn't changed. Ginny raises her voice slightly to distract the firsties; even during times of war appearances matter.

Abruptly Parvati turns and stalks away, hands clenched into fists and face slightly flushed. Neville watches her go, expression impassive. When Padma glances towards Luna, she finds the blonde on her way across the room, floating across the floor as though gravity is optional. She and Parvati cross paths; neither pause to look at the other. Parvati doesn't say anything as she reaches her sister, just stands there glaring at Neville's profile. A few tendrils of hair have escaped from her braid, sticking to her cheek. Padma suppresses the urge to brush them away and reaches for Parvati's hand instead, prying the clenched fingers open and offering silent solidarity with her touch. They stand there together, watching Ginny move on to the freezing charm and Susan Bones hold court with some of the older Hufflepuffs.

"What did you see?"

Parvati slumps ever so slightly at the question. Padma tightens her grip.

"Death."

"Yours?"

"Theirs."

She nods slightly towards the firsties, most of whom are frowning with concentration as they try to make a dummy's hand fall off from frostbite. Padma doesn't reply. Together they stand, hands clasped tightly, eyes fixed on the kids. Only time will tell which possible future turns into reality; until the time comes the only thing to do is wait and watch and hope.

Hope, these days, is hard to come by.

*

It took nine years for their parents to finally realize that their accidental magic took the form of presentience rather than levitation or changing the colors of their curtains. Nine years of worried looks and leading questions, nine years of insincere encouragements and badly hidden despair. Nine years of the twins wondering why everyone seemed surprised by so many things that seemed so obvious and of clinging to each other to keep from getting lost in the maelstrom of possible futures.

Nine years of waiting for something that had already happened.

Parvati saw their Hogwarts letters at seven, with such clarity that when the actual copies arrived she could recite them word for word as Padma read aloud. Padma saw herself wearing blue and teased her sister for a week about being secretly academic. Neither of them foresaw the actual sorting; they've never been infallible and possible futures respond to mood.

*

Padma sits at the Gryffindor table for breakfast and Parvati joins the Ravenclaws for dinner. They take their lunch in the Room of Requirement. Snape has other battles to pick with the student body and the Carrows are easily bribed by people with the right bloodline. The twins have exactly the right bloodline; they can trace their family line back to Shah Jahan's beloved Empress while the best the Carrows can manage is a distant connection to the Blacks. Parvati's house and their allegiance with Neville do not tarnish their blood status and the Carrows mostly leave them alone.

Parvati takes her tea with two sugars and a generous splash of cream. She spreads jam haphazardly over her toast and manages to make licking it off her fingers look graceful. Padma drinks her tea strong and black and eats her eggs without salt. Neither of them touch the ham.

Padma tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and passes Ginny the pumpkin juice. Under the table her right leg brushes against Parvati's, stockings touching bare skin. They have Transfiguration first this morning, a class in which Padma excels and Parvati gets by. Lavender, sitting on Parvati's other side, picks at her morning toast and ignores her tea. Unlike Neville she has shrunk with the tension, retreating into herself until Padma has to strain to find the lively girl who spent so many summers at their house. Parvati reaches over and places a serving of eggs on her plate, murmuring something as she does so. Lavender responds in an undertone. Padma does not listen in; she and her twin once searched for the fates of their friends, when they were younger and less able to understand the sporadic darkness that filled their Inner Eyes. Lavender will die in this war, though the method of death changes each time they ask. Parvati has long since stopped asking.

The doors to the great hall slam open and Filtch stalks in. The already quiet room goes deathly silent as he makes his way towards the High Table, glowering triumphantly at the assembled students.

"Vandalism! Vandalism in the dungeons!"

He sounds torn between fury at the event and sick joy at the prospect of torturing those responsible. Padma's breath catches as a dozen possible futures coalesce into one definite prediction half a minute before Colin Creevey stands up defiantly. It wasn't him. He had nothing to do with the graffiti. The Sorting Hat doesn't make mistakes. Padma closes her eyes to keep from seeing what will happen to him. Denying possible futures their access doesn't keep her from hearing real time and she ducks her head as Filtch all but pounces towards the Gryffindor table to drag Colin away. Dennis is pleading for mercy a little ways down, while next to Parvati Lavender has begun to cry. If Padma were looking, she would see Neville's stoic mask threatening to crack and Ginny's face closed in on itself in an effort to give nothing away. Under the table Parvati hooks her foot around Padma's leg in silent comfort

The next time anyone sees Colin he's bleeding in several places and looks too old for his age. The defiant spark in his eyes has not yet dimmed. Padma looks away and tries not to picture his corpse.

*

When they were babies, Padma and Parvati shared a crib. Padma, ever the quieter one, could spend hours laughing merrily at her twin's antics, while nothing calmed Parvati faster than being with her sister. Their parents saw nothing wrong with humoring the sibling bond and didn't separate them. They grew up entwined with each other, literally and metaphorically. Parvati braided Padma's hair, tying it off with a ribbon or a flower clip, while Padma did up the buttons Parvati couldn't reach and helped her sneak into their mother's makeup collection. Even when they were big enough to have their own beds they were more likely to be found curled up together on just one of them; as soon as they were strong enough to move the furniture they dragged their beds together. Padma threw a rare tantrum when their parents tried to give them different rooms and the matter was quickly dropped.

Parvati was the first to start seeing possible futures flitting through her mind, never staying long enough to be properly pinned down or examined. Padma's didn't come until later but she was the one to figure out what they were. She taught herself to read at four, bullied her sister into following suit a few months later, and spend days working her way painfully through the books in her father's library until she found an answer. Her vocabulary increased by at least half in the process.

The first time Parvati saw her death was in a dream. She woke screaming, clutching at her sister and begging her never to let it happen. Padma held her close, chubby fists clenched tight as she swore to keep Parvati safe. For the next few days the two were glued together, not even letting each other out of sight long enough to go to the bathroom. Parvati braided their hair together, tying it off with their favorite bejeweled hair clip. Padma stayed up with her at night, whispering reassurances until she fell asleep. They tried eating off the same plate for the first day, but their tastes in food were different enough that they quickly went back to separate dishes.

Even after being forcibly separated to bathe they clung together, playing with each other instead of the other children of their age and station. After the third time Parvati made Pansy Parkinson cry by pulling her hair and repeating her secrets their mother stopped encouraging them to play with others. Neither of their parents were ever any good at hiding their concern from the girls, not when between them they could predict lectures days before they'd actually done whatever they were going to be lectured about. For a time Padma tried to reassure them that they were far from lonely, but everything she did seemed to make it worse and soon enough she stopped trying.

Later they realized what their parents were actually worried about. It was too late. Neither twin cared.

*

"Your tea is too strong."

The twins are on Padma's bed, both sitting cross-legged and sipping freshly brewed tea from matching teacups. A small saucepan sits on Padma's nightstand, contents simmering quietly over a magical fire. Parvati takes another sip and makes a face.

"It's not my fault you like yours absurdly sweet."

Parvati makes terrible chai for the same reason her potions are barely passable, so this ritual has been Padma's domain ever since the two came to Hogwarts and found out how much they missed their mother's cooking. Over the years Padma has tweaked their mother's recipe and now her blend is truly hers. Parvati drinks anyway despite her complaints.

Padma closes her eyes, holding her cup in both hands. She hears Parvati shift on the bed, inching forward until her knees brush Padma’s. Padma does not open her eyes again but her lips curve into a slight smile.

“We have an hour until dinner.”

“I know.”

“They’re going to restrict curfew even more.”

“I know.”

“We probably won’t be able to do this again.”

Padma cracks one eye open.

“If you want something ‘Vati, just ask.”

Parvati laughs and carefully banishes her teacup onto the nightstand. Padma keeps hers in hand, enjoying the warmth.

“I thought you Ravenclaws liked subtlety.”

“Only when someone’s good at it.”

“Are you maligning my competence?”

“Yes.”

Parvati laughs again. She reaches over and brushes a strand of Padma’s hair away from her face, fingers trailing down her twin’s cheek. Padma leans into the touch, quietly directing her own teacup to sit next to Parvati’s. A second twitch of her wand closes the curtains around the bed.

“Modest?”

Padma can hear the smile in Parvati’s voice, for all that she can’t make out her twin’s expression in the dim light filtering through the heavy curtains. She laughs.

“You could say that.”

Working by feel she finds the end of Parvati’s braid and works the hair tie out. Parvati’s running her other hand through Padma’s own hair and down her back. The two have inched closer, sharing body heat and feeling each other’s breath on their skin.

Parvati leans in first, lips brushing softly against the sensitive skin of Padma’s neck. Her roaming fingers slip under Padma’s blouse and back up her back. Padma gets to work on Parvati’s blouse, undoing the buttons with practiced ease and slipping off the tie with a single tug. Parvati’s lips move up her neck and onto her face, dropping kisses onto her chin and lower jaw. She slips off Padma’s bra straps and works them down her arms, getting stuck at the bent elbows. Padma pulls back slightly, letting one arm drop to her side so that Parvati can slip the strap off, then repeating the gesture with the other arm.

As soon as Parvati’s slipped Padma’s bra off entirely she turns her attention back to her mouth, finally deigning to kiss Padma’s actual lips. Padma practically melts into the kiss, fingers curling slightly around Parvati’s blouse in an unconscious effort to pull them closer. The kiss deepens and Padma’s eyes close.

Parvati pulls away at last, but only to draw a breath. Beneath Padma’s still buttoned-up blouse her hands cup her sister’s breasts, thumbs running over the nipples delicately. Parvati’s hands are soft as silk, kept so by magic and by lotions applied daily. Padma’s own are rougher, less assiduously cared for, usually ink-stained and scabbed from when the quill-knife slips. She runs a finger down her sister’s chest right between the breasts, enjoying Parvati’s involuntary shiver.

A flickering image passes across Padma’s inner eye but she ignores it. There will be time later for possible futures and for death and destruction. She closes her eyes again and pulls her twin closer, pressing their lips together again so as to banish all tenses but the present within them both. With her eyes closed she sees only colors freed from pattern or meaning and imagines them all in red and bronze.

*

“Divinations? _Why_?”

“It’ll be an easy class. And Lavender wants to.”

Padma shot her sister a dubious look. At twelve she was still working out the appropriate times to use sarcasm, but she felt confident that this pronouncement merited at least that look if not a pointed comment. Parvati caught on before Padma could decide what to say, and she grinned.

“It’ll be fun! Besides, it’s being taught by a relative of Cassandra Trelawney, so it’s bound to be interesting.”

This did nothing to alleviate Padma’s skepticism.

“I’ve heard about that class. It’s treated as a joke by the whole House.”

“I’m not in your House, am I? Anyway, Hermione Granger’s taking it and I don’t think she’ll be any good.”

Padma sighed.

“I don’t think taking a class just to watch Hermione fail is a good idea.”

“You only say that because you don’t have to live with her.”

“So you just want to spend _more_ time with her?”

“I want to be _better_ than her.”

Padma opened her mouth to continue the argument then closed it again. Arguing with Parvati when she’d already made up her mind was a lost cause from the start. Instead she reached over and circled Ancient Runes on the list of electives Parvati had signed up to take. Parvati rolled her eyes and grabbed for Padma’s own form. After a brief tug of war Padma had ink on her face and a slightly shaky circle around Care of Magical Creatures. Both twins called truce.

*

Ginny looks over at Parvati expectantly, eyes still alight with anticipation of the plan she and Luna have hatched between them. Parvati’s eyes close and her posture relaxes slightly. Padma doesn’t bother watching; she’s seen the most likely outcomes already. Either Ginny, Neville, and Luna will fail to steal the sword of Gryffindor and get caught or they will manage to get it out of the headmaster’s office and then get caught. Parvati keeps insisting that it might go differently. Padma is nowhere near so optimistic.

A few moments later Parvati’s eyes open again.

“He’ll get it.”

Ginny grins while Luna’s expression stays as dreamily neutral as always. Padma shoots her sister a look. Ginny might have allowed her enthusiasm to interpret Parvati’s reply as confirmation but Padma knows better. Parvati doesn’t return the look.

“See? I _told_ you.”

Neville still looks unconvinced, but Ginny with a plan is hard to stop and Padma knows he’ll give in. Of course he will; she’s seen the consequences. She looks down even as Ginny goes right back to her scheming. A vision of fair-haired twins floats across Padma’s inner eye completely devoid of context or explanation.

The twins stay in the Room of Requirement for a little longer, listening as Ginny and Neville run through potential pitfalls. Parvati occasionally contributes to the conversation; Padma does not. Luna occasionally looks her way but the other two don’t even think to ask for her opinion. She tries not to hold it against them; lions assume everyone will be as assertive as they are taught to be and she doesn’t have anything to add, not really. If Ginny won’t listen to Neville’s warnings she certainly won’t care about Padma’s.

Eventually the two find themselves back in Parvati’s dorm. Lavender is in her own bed, but she’s used to giving the two their privacy. Padma shoots her sister an accusing look.

“You lied to them.”

“I did _not_!”

Parvati sounds genuinely offended but Padma doesn’t stop.

“You may as well have.”

“He _will_ get his hands on the sword. I’ve seen it. It’s going to happen. How else is he supposed to get it?”

“And they _will_ get caught. You’ve seen that too.”

“The two can both be true.”

Padma opens her mouth to retaliate then changes her mind. It’s done. Parvati can’t take her words back and Ginny wouldn’t listen even if she could. She sighs instead.

“They’re going to blame us when it goes wrong.”

“They would have blamed us anyway.”

“You don’t know that.”

Parvati shoots her a look and doesn’t bother answering. Padma scowls.

“You _don’t_.”

“Of course I do.”

“You’ve seen it, have you?”

“I don’t need to see what I can observe with open eyes. We’re convenient scapegoats and you know it as well as I do.”

Padma scowls.

“That’s not fair.”

“Since when is the truth fair?”

Padma doesn’t have an answer to that one. After a minute of silence she gets up and pads out of the dormitory. Ginny and Neville are sitting at the front of the common room, heads close together as they converse quietly. Neither one looks up as Padma passes by.

*

Neither of them had required the help of their inner eyes to know that the Yule Ball would be an unmitigated disaster. Parvati had been adamant that they both attend, so Padma let her sister pick out a set of dress robes and obediently learned the charms necessary to keep her hair out of her face and her makeup resistant to smudging. Her only condition was that they go with each other rather than with dates. Parvati pouted prettily, Padma crossed her arms, and in the end Parvati gave in.

Two weeks before the ball Parvati let herself into Ravenclaw and presented Padma with a box of Honeyduke’s best chocolate.

“I told Ron Weasley you’d go to the ball with him.”

“You _what_?”

“Don’t be cross. It was an emergency.”

Padma set her book aside completely and scowled. Parvati, to her credit, looked slightly sheepish.

“And _why_ did you tell Ron Weasley that I would go to the ball with him?”

“Because Harry asked me to.”

Padma’s scowl deepened.

“Start at the beginning. Don’t stop until you get to the end. And give me those.”

Parvati handed over the chocolates and, as ordered, started at the beginning. It did not take long.

“So let me get this straight. You told Harry Potter that you didn’t have a date, which was a _lie_ , and then volunteered me to go as the date of someone I’ve never exchanged words with in my life and you didn’t bother asking me first? Even coming from you that’s unreasonable.”

“What was I supposed to do? He was clearly desperate.”

“Parvati, it is not actually your job to organize everyone’s love life. Potter’s a big boy. He can fend for himself.”

“Obviously he can’t or we wouldn’t be here. Look, you don’t have to dance with him or anything. Just show up, smile a bit, and make him get you punch.”

Padma sighed.

“I’ve already agreed to do this, haven’t I?”

“Have you?”

“Yes. And _you_ have agreed to stop trying to set Lisa and Anthony up on dates. Neither of them appreciates it.”

Parvati laughed and rose.

“They wouldn’t last anyway.”

Padma rolled her eyes and went back to her book as Parvati left the common room. A vision of Parvati looking beautiful in vivid pink robes danced across her inner eye.

By the time the ball came around the chocolate was long gone and Padma was mostly over her annoyance. She let Mandy help her with her hair and taught Lisa some of Parvati’s makeup tricks. Lisa was going with Anthony after all; somewhere out there Padma felt certain that fate was laughing.

She met Parvati and the boys outside the Great Hall. Parvati, naturally, looked stunning, while Harry was more or less presentable. Ron Weasley was not. Padma shot her sister a dark look then smiled and took his arm. He did not bother to smile.

The dance itself was mostly a non-event. Parvati and Harry danced once while Ron barely even looked at Padma. She didn’t mind too much. Her inner eye was trying very hard to tell her something but every time she tried to focus on it she got distracted by the music or the lights or something Parvati said. Within twenty minutes she had a pounding headache and it took all her self control not to snap at the French boy Parvati produced for her after losing patience with the local ones. She sent him to go get her some punch instead and squeezed her eyes shut. It provided some reprieve from the vision and when she opened them again it seemed to have temporarily given up.

It returned full force after the second dance. Padma nearly stumbled on her way off the dance floor. The French boy caught her and said something that was probably concerned. Padma ignored him, looking around the Great Hall for her sister. There she was, looking spectacular as her French boy dipped her in time to the music. She rose, spun, and met Padma’s eyes for an instant. They’d never had the kind of psychic connection common to twins in story books, but Padma knew that Parvati had seen the same thing. She murmured something incoherent to her French boy and slipped out of the room.

Parvati joined her a few minutes later, still slightly flushed from the dancing. Padma hesitated, suddenly shy in front of her twin. For a moment neither of them said anything. Then Parvati shot her sister an imperious look.

“Are you going to kiss me or not?”

Padma laughed, some of the shyness melting away.

“You’re so pushy.”

“I’ve been waiting for this for two months now!”

“So why do I have to initiate?”

“Do _you_ want to be the one to mess with fate?”

Padma rolled her eyes and closed the distance between them. This close she could count the faint freckles on Parvati’s face, could see the strokes from where she’d applied her makeup earlier, could count the strands of her hair. Parvati’s breath felt warm on her face and her eyes were half closed. Slowly Padma leaned in, pressing her mouth to Parvati’s. Her lips were as warm as her breath, soft and coated in gloss. When Padma pulled back and licked her own lips she tasted strawberries.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

Parvati sounded slightly breathless; at least Padma wasn’t the only one to be affected.

“I… I think I’d need to repeat the experience to know for sure.”

Parvati initiated the next one, not bothering with shyness. She kept her eyes open and Padma could see her pupils dilating. A shiver ran up her spine and she pressed closer. Parvati drew back only as far as it took to take a breath.

“Do you want to go back and say goodnight?”

Mutely Padma shook her head.

“Neither do I.”

A flash of color in her inner eye managed to catch Padma’s attention and she felt herself grinning.

“My dorm is empty.”

“Then by all means let us take advantage.”

Parvati kissed her again and grabbed her hand, pulling her out of their shadowed corner towards Ravenclaw tower. Her hand was warm and smooth, her pink robes brought out the sparkle in her eyes, and Padma realized that her headache had completely vanished.

*

Luna doesn’t come back from Christmas holidays. Ginny blames the twins for not predicting it ahead of time. Parvati doesn’t need to say anything.

*

“What did you see?”

Parvati’s voice is quiet, soothing. Padma gasps for air, forcing herself out of the dream. It wasn’t real. A vision it may have been, but visions only show possible futures. A hundred things could happen to alter the outcome of the vision. A hundred things could already have happened. It could have been nothing more than a nightmare. She makes herself breathe, reaching blindly for Parvati’s hand. She finds her sister’s hair instead and buries her fingers in it. Feeling something so tangible helps her calm down and, slowly, her gasping for air slows. She keeps her hand in Parvati’s loose hair. Parvati doesn’t complain.

“What did you see?”

“Death.”

Padma’s voice comes out a whisper but it doesn’t tremble.

“Whose?”

“Yours.”

Parvati doesn’t answer for a moment and Padma feels her heartbeat pick up again. Her sister is close enough to notice and she reaches over to take hold of Padma’s free hand. Her palm is cool to the touch. She does not ask for details. Padma does not supply them. She inhales deeply, breathing in the scent of Parvati’s shampoo and moisturizer. They lie there, holding each other close, drawing comfort from the contact like they did when they were children.

“I don’t want you to die.”

Padma says the words so quietly she thinks Parvati hasn’t heard. She doesn’t want her sister to have heard. Parvati is a Gryffindor and she will greet death with her head held high and her eyes open. She doesn’t need to bear witness to Padma’s own cowardice. Parvati doesn’t say anything in reply but she squeezes Padma’s hand and Padma knows she heard. Padma squeezes back and turns her head away.

She doesn’t sleep that night.

*

When they were children their parents tried only once to separate them. They were ten years old, already well on the way to settling into their distinct personalities and roles. An invitation came for their mother and one of the girls to visit her sister’s family in Mumbai, with the understanding that if all went well the other would visit the following year. After several family conferences their parents chose Padma as the more emotionally mature of the two and she spent the month leading up to the trip alternating between delirious excitement and blind terror. Parvati teased her about the first and reassured her about the second and by the time she stood in the international departures department of the Ministry of Magic the excitement had almost eclipsed everything else. She gave her father and sister one last hug then grabbed hold of the teapot that would take them to Mumbai and squeezed her eyes closed.

It took two days for Padma to break down in tears and demand to call home. She spent the next two hours with her head in her aunt’s fireplace talking to an equally despondent Parvati and making her promise not to go when her turn came. It was selfish, but Padma didn’t care. She couldn’t imagine having to go through the pain of separation twice. Parvati seemed to agree and when finally their mother made Padma end the call they had sworn to do everything together until the day they died.

The trip itself was something of a blur. Later, Padma would regret not paying more attention to the sights and the people and the history but at the time she missed her sister and her home too fiercely to take in any of it. Her mother and aunt worked to draw her out of her homesickness with reassurance and gifts and, eventually, frustration but nothing helped. Her uncle said nothing but she could feel his disapproval. Padma took to hiding in the guest bedroom whenever they were home so as to avoid the looks of disappointment.

Parvati was waiting for them at the Ministry when finally it came time to go home. Padma ignored everything, including the Ministry official sent to process their papers and welcome them formally back to Great Britain, and made a beeline for her sister. They clung to each other, hugging tightly enough to leave marks and bruises. Padma found herself half laughing half crying and when they were finally forced to draw apart in order to head home she saw that Parvati’s face too was wet.

That night their parents stayed up late talking in low voices. The twins did not listen in, too wrapped up in the undiluted joy of being reunited. They slept pressed up against each other that night, and braided each others’ hair in the morning. It was not until several weeks later that they were seen in different rooms, and even then only for a few minutes.

Parvati did not take the offered trip to India when the time came.

*

“Snape’s worried.”

Parvati does her best to speak quietly but her words silence the nearby students anyway. Neville and Ginny fix her with identical questioning looks, though it’s Neville who speaks. Barely a trace of the awkward child remains in him now, all vulnerability and indecision eradicated by the burden of responsibility.

“Why?”

“We’re not sure.”

Padma answers for her sister, not bothering to keep her voice down now that they’ve already attracted attention. They are among the few who have not permanently moved into the Room of Requirement, still protected by their blood and their connections. Padma would be perfectly happy to stop going out anyway but Parvati takes their self-imposed responsibility as spies seriously and Padma refuses to let her expose herself alone. There are few enough of them left that there is only one class per year per subject which saves the twins the need to merge their schedules themselves. Ginny and Neville, long since moved in with the muggle borns and halfbloods, have no such concern.

“But it’s serious?”

“We think so. He’s usually not so easy to read.”

Padma hesitates and glances at her sister. Parvati’s hand finds hers despite the public setting and her voice does not tremble.

“We think it has something to do with Harry.”

The effect on the room is electric. Even those already paying attention grow more intense and the weight of unbearable tension settles over them all. Padma swallows.

“Have you Seen anything?”

Ginny always capitalizes the word, emphasis audible in her speech. Both twins shake their heads and Ginny frowns.

“Have you looked?”

Parvati shrugs.

“It’s a bit late now. Whatever it is has already happened.”

“But there will be aftermath. We need to be as prepared as we can for what’s to come.”

Ginny’s tone is implacable. Padma and Parvati exchange glances and Parvati takes a deep breath, tightening her grip on Padma’s hand. Her eyes slide out of focus and her face falls slack. Padma braces herself for the worst and waits.

It does not take long for Parvati to stiffen. She squeezes Padma’s hand more until it hurts properly and her breath comes in short gasps. Padma takes half a second to wordlessly summon a chair and pushes her sister into it, still holding her hand. A moment later and Parvati blinks rapidly, returning to the visible world. She’s shaking slightly, not quite all present.

“He’s coming.”

Her voice is harsh, words clipped. Ginny leans forward eagerly.

“Who’s coming?”

“Harry.”

Parvati stands up stiffly, chin coming up almost defiantly. Padma knows that look. She feels a pit start to grow in her stomach.

“When? Are you sure? Can you be more specific?”

Ginny doesn’t seem to notice the way Parvati is trying desperately to keep her composure but Neville does and he puts a hand on her shoulder, reigning her in.

“What else did you see?”

Parvati shakes her head.

“Nothing.”

“Are you sure?”

It’s Padma, not her sister, who glares at him. Something in her expression gets through to him and he too backs away.

“Sorry. But you’re sure he _is_ coming?”

Parvati nods. Something in Neville gives way and he slumps slightly, looking more relieved than he’s been in months.

“Oh thank Merlin.”

He doesn’t ask if they win the battle or not. Padma’s not sure if he doesn’t want to know or if he thinks he already does. She nods slightly to him and to Ginny and starts to lead her sister out of the Room of Requirement. Parvati pauses, twisting slightly to look directly at Ginny.

“Luna was there. She was yelling at him.”

As she turns back towards the door Padma catches a glimpse of Ginny looking just as relieved as Neville. Padma wishes she could share their optimism.

*

When Padma sees the final battle the outcome always stays shrouded in uncertainty. She had her first vision of it at eight, long after Parvati began seeing glimpses of her own death. The details change with each successive viewing and for a while she wasn’t even sure it was the same battle. Time and repetition taught her different and by fifteen she was familiar with the broad strokes of the fight.

One detail never changed no matter how many times she revisited it in visions and in dreams. Padma did her best not to think about it too much. Visions, after all, are only possible futures until they become prophecy and even the strongest of possible futures can be altered. She did not ask whether her sister saw the battle too. Parvati never volunteered the information.

*

The night before the battle Parvati braids their hair together and Padma clings to her, clutching at her sister like the strength of her arms alone can change the decisions of fate.


End file.
